Built To Last
by TheResurrectionist
Summary: Wincest AU! Beautiful, green-eyed men have never been Sam's weakness until now. Then again, maybe he could blame it on the snowstorm from Armageddon. Rated T for err...wincestness?


A/N I'm back! This fic is for all of you who PM'd me-I'm not dead, I swear! Here, take this wincest au! *runs and hides*

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Sam loved it when the day flew by and everything worked out. He loved it when the bells over the front of the door jangled and a new face peeked in, confused or complacent. He loved it when the sun came down from the skylight and hit the crystals hanging above his head, and the way everything smelled like home in his store.

Most of all, he loved his store as a whole. Reconnections, or his baby as he (and most of his employees) called it, his store and his life. Everything he possessed had gone into this store, and while the economy was tanking, he knew his love for the store would keep its doors open.

Nestled in a shady corner of a busy street, he got foot traffic from pretty much every imaginable kind of person. Catering mainly to those open to homeopathic medicine options, he received a lot of curiosity and bewilderment, especially when paired with the fact that it also was a Wiccan store. Nevertheless, his revenue had been mildly successful within the last few years, and staying open was something Sam knew to be grateful for.

Jewelry, candles, crystals and pottery lined the left half of the store, small shelves perfectly set and arranged. His OCD, while he claimed it wasn't terrible, decided to read its ugly head in strange places. If that meant constantly moving shelves to match his visualization of the store, then so be it.

The other half of the store was made up of bookshelves, large wooden ones he'd gotten at a rummage sale for a fraction of their true value. Heavy and polished, they held hundreds of books on medicine, spirituality and other assorted self-help genres. A counter ran across the back wall, case filled with the various herbs, pastes and salves he kept labeled and on display. Soft lights lit the whole place, coupled with a gorgeous skylight he'd uncovered after a surprise day of repairs on the ceiling.

As much as he would've liked it to have been a one-man show, his store wasn't completely manageable by one person. After two years of running solo, Sam was starting to fray under the pressure. He would've liked to have done it all, but his past self had recognized the problem and started hiring. Two employees worked under him now, a sweet college student named Melody and a guy named Ash. Sam wasn't a hundred percent sure what Ash did for a living, but he was kind and a hard worker, and that was all Sam really required for the job.

That had been about three years ago, and what had started as a small Wiccan store old ladies and rich women from the other side of town were scared to go into had become a well-known store everyone liked. The old ladies and rich women were probably the only ones who merely tolerated it now, but Sam got a thought-provoking amount of business from their kids, so he didn't really care. Melody, in a moment of wisdom, had told him once he couldn't please everyone, and over the years he'd accepted it as the truth. It still hurt to see someone walk by and flinch at the 'devil worship', but he really wasn't losing sleep over it at night.

Fast forward to a Thursday night so hectic Sam wasn't even really sure why he was still open. Snow didn't fall gracefully from the heavens like in the Wal-Mart commercial he'd seen this morning. No, it dove and POUNDED on his windows, completely obscuring the view to the street and making Sam feel a little claustrophobic. He'd sent Melody and Ash home hours ago, praying the roads wouldn't get too bad before they were able to get home. About six inches had fallen then, joined by another half-dozen over the last few hours. Everything was shut down, and even the occasional plow passing by seemed ghostly.

So, Sam did what he did best and organized. The displays in the front of the store were ever-so-slightly dusty and suddenly not aesthetically in the right place. He spent ten minutes shifting around the shelves and products until he was pleased. After that, besides aimlessly wandering around his own store, he wasn't sure what to do. Usually he at least had Ash and Melody around to talk to if there weren't customers, but the place was empty as a One Direction concert in a biker town. Settling down behind his desk, he resolved himself to another two hours of not really doing anything until he could close up and get to his apartment upstairs.

The door rattled thirty minutes later, bells flying wildly in the storm. Snow blew in as a cold-looking person shoved their way in, leather jacket pulled firmly over something in their hands.

Sam stood as the lump revealed itself as a baby, rushing forward in a slightly panicked move. A pair of sharp green eyes met his as the man drew the baby out from under his jacket, blanket wrapped tightly around its body.

"Oh my God, are you alright?" Sam asked as he spanned the distance from the main counter to the entrance. "You must be freezing."

The man cracked a smile, shaking snow out of his dark-blonde hair with a chuckle. "It happens when the weather decides to Armageddon it, am I right?" He asked in a pleasant voice, but the smile didn't really reach his eyes as he glanced around the store. He looked so out of place in Sam's store, baby clasped in his arms to tenderly even though his whole outfit (and music taste, apparently) screamed defiance. He shifted back and forth on his feet for a second, reminding Sam that he was in fact staring.

"Oh! Sorry!" He said, blushing slightly as the prettier-than-he-should-be man raised an eyebrow. "What can I help you with?"

"I was looking for, ah..." He trailed off, reaching into his pocket and opening a crumpled piece of paper one-handed. "Sam Richards?" He asked tentatively, looking up and down from the paper at Sam. "That by any chance you?"

Sam smiled. "That is, in fact me. Welcome to Reconnections, current population three. The weather's a real bummer, am I right?"

He may have laid on the charm a little too much, judging by the slight widening of mystery man's eyes, but it'd been hours since he'd even seen another human being, especially one as cute as him.

Not that a dream like that was going to go anywhere, seeing as the baby in his hands meant he had a girl somewhere. Sam wondered why he'd carry the poor thing without a carrier in weather like this, though.

"Yeah, Diane from my building said you sold medicine." The guy said, looking ten shades of awkward for some reason.

"Oh cool man!" Sam said, feeling overenthusiastic and sounding like a stoned surfer. "The homeopathic stuff is right by that counter over there." He said, pointing to the far wall. "You want help with anything, Mr..."

"Dean." The man said, but really it came out more as a husky purr from his chest. "Call me Dean."

Sam nodded, walking down to the counter and turning the display levels up a little. "You looking for anything in particular, Dean?"

Following, the man shook his head. "I was just looking." He said to the floor, and while Sam thought it might be strange that he was 'just looking' on a Thursday night during one of the worst snowstorms in the history of snowstorms, he made light of it and gave him some privacy.

Or at least, tried to give him privacy until his eyes caught the baby's and he fell in love like he did with every kid he saw.

"Who's this?" He asked, taking a step forward and smiling wide. A pair of surprisingly intelligent brown eyes met his shyly, snuggled up against the old leather of Dean's jacket.

"Ben." Dean said as he glanced at the natural pain-relievers intently. "His name is Ben."

Sam, cooing like the thirteen year-old he was on the inside, made faces at baby Ben. This caused Ben to giggle and smile invitingly, but Sam wouldn't touch him without Dean's permission. It was rude.

Dean shifted again and Sam realized he was too close. Giving him some real privacy, he went back to the main counter with an apologetic glance towards Ben.

A few minutes later Dean called him back, shyly staring at the floor as he pointed out his purchases. Sam opened the case and grabbed the bottles, noting the choices. Three different kinds of pain killers and a cold slash flu remedy.

"This all?" Sam asked, lining the bottles up on the counter carefully. Dean nodded silently, rubbing the hand that wasn't holding Ben anxiously on the cuff of his jacket. Sam rang him up, looking up at the small noise of defeat that sounded a second later.

"Is something wrong?" Sam asked nervously, watching Dean's face carefully. A small flash of despair appeared in his green eyes for a second and then Sam finally got it.

"I..I can't afford this, I'm sorry." Dean said softly, speaking to the floor as his face flushed red in shame. "I'm sorry for wasting your time."

He turned to leave, beginning to wrap baby Ben up in his jacket again when Sam threw a hand out, concerned. He turned Dean around, astonished as he saw tears welling in his green eyes.

"Dean? Hey, tell me what's wrong?" Sam asked softly, feeling terrible but knowing he had to be feeling a lot better than Dean right now. "Why can't you afford it?"

Dean flinched, and Sam knew his question had been blunt. He mumbled something to the floor again, but Sam didn't catch it.

"What?"

"I can't afford it. I'm sorry." Dean said, not daring to meet Sam's eyes. "I thought your natural stuff would be cheaper. I can't get the mess the doc wants for me now and.." His breaths began to come quicker, and he looked like he was on the edge of a full-blown panic attack.

"Hey, hey Dean!" Sam said quickly, grabbing his chin and tilting it up until he was forced to make eye contact. "Look at me, okay?" He asked, putting his most reassuring look on. "You need to calm down for me, alright? You're going to hurt Ben."

Dean nodded in his hands, and Sam sighed in relief. He gently pried the baby out if his now shaking hands.

"Is it okay if I hold him?" He asked gently after a second, wrapping a warm arm around the baby. "Your hands are shaking."

"Yeah." Dean said absently, handing him the blanket. Sam swaddled Ben, laying him down on the small pillows next to the case where he sold felted things old grannies loved. Ben glanced up once at Dean but stayed quiet, oddly complacent for a baby.

"Why don't we sit down." Sam said, pulling chairs out from behind the counter and coming around to sit next to Dean. The other man looked tentative still, casting embarrassed looks at his unclaimed merchandise.

"I lost my job a few months ago." Dean said gruffly, staring at his hands. "I thought that was the worst of it, but a month or so ago I wrenched my shoulder doing construction work. I've had PT since then but it's..." He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing. "..it's expensive. And I have to take care of Ben too. It's hard making ends meet."

He delivered this all to Sam's hands, looking embarrassed and mortified and every emotion in between. More so, he looked guilty, like this was some shameful secret he couldn't share.

"So I went to some other stores and offices for meds after my doctor prescribed more. I came here as a last resort." Dean started, voice catching a little. "I was hoping the natural stuff was cheaper. Ben has to eat first, and I." He cut off, and something sounding suspiciously like a sob hitched his breath. "I want him to have a future. You know, college and shit." He wiped a stray tear from his cheek, still staring at the floor.

He looked so heartbreaking sad that Sam just wanted to grab and hug him. He'd never seen a more beautiful person in his life, doing selfless things like putting his child first. All of that cocky swagger from before was just an act, although a convincing one at that. He honestly cared about this baby more than himself being healthy.

Making a decision, Sam stood up and walked into the back room. Surprise and shame flitted across Dean's face, as if he thought Sam was disgusted by him. Moving quickly, Sam gathered what he wanted into a small bag and brought it back out to the front, grabbing the bottles from the counter and praying Dean hadn't left.

In fact, Dean was walking towards the door when Sam shouted, baby safely wrapped in his coat as he glared at the storm through the window. Sam barely managed to avoid tripping as he shouted again, grabbing the man's attention. He turned around, looking apprehensive.

"Here." Sam said breathlessly, pressing the bag into his hand. Looking for all his worth confused, Dean frowned at the bag and opened it. He paled visibly when he saw its contents.

"Your medicine, some hats for the baby, a heating pad for your shoulder and some other stuff and vouchers." Sam rattled off nervously. "I'm sorry I can't do more."

"More?" Dean whispered in shock, eyes wide. He took a step forward. "Oh my god." He said softly, tears welling up in his eyes again. Sam felt his own eyes burn at the sight, knowing it took a lot to bring such a strong man to tears.

"I prefer Sam." He said with a watery smile, grasping Dean's hand. "Take this too."

He pressed a small roll of bills into the shocked man's hand, patting it before letting go. Dean stared up at him in amazement, baby still clasped in his callused hand.

"I don't know how to thank you." He said shakily, staring at Sam reverently. "No one's this kind."

"Well, I try." Sam joked, putting a hand on Dean's arm. The other man smiled slightly, and it looked good on him. The smile disappeared when he glanced out the window and saw the snow. Sam peered over his shoulder and sighed. The roads were even worse than they were ten minutes ago and the snow didn't look like it was even thinking about stopping.

"Stay here." Sam blurted out all of a sudden. "You and Ben. Until the storm blows over."

Dean made a surprised noise in the back of his throat.

"I swear I'm not a creep or a serial killer of anything." He said quickly. "The roads just aren't safe and you've got the baby and.." Dean cut him off with a smile.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Sam exclaimed, slightly shocked and a little happy. "Really?"

Dean smiled up at him, green eyes twinkling.

"Yeah."


End file.
